


Under the Moonlight

by Of Elves and Wolves (Only2morrow)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, In a park, Random smut, Smexy smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 07:16:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5239400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Only2morrow/pseuds/Of%20Elves%20and%20Wolves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smutty prompt fill- In the pale moonlight, Lavellan meets a mysterious painter in the park to take her mind off of her failed relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under the Moonlight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rightinthevhenan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rightinthevhenan/gifts).



The night drew on, as Lavellan stared at her empty apartment with a hardened scowl on her face.. 

It was a strange feeling to look upon the place and the obvious holes where Cullen’s things had been. That table he’d picked out, the stereo she’d given him for Christmas.

All gone. 

Just as he was. 

But try as she may to tear her heart open for her lost love… 

It was a relief. 

Cullen Rutherford was an amazing man. Perfect in almost every sense. Strong, dependable, loyal. His features were cut from fairy tale, crafted for fine horses and a princess in distress.

Unfortunately, she was not that princess. 

With a bit of a gruff, she set down her drink next to her beginning to looking over her apartment once more with saddened eyes. 

She needed to get out of this place. Needed air. Room to breathe. 

She grabbed her coat from the hook, covering her legs from the cold of the midnight air. She walked, her feet carrying her from that empty apartment away from her problems and away from her feelings. 

Time drug on as the night grew; her feet hitting the pavement below turning corner after corner eyes never once leaving the chilled concrete below. 

Until there was no concrete left. 

She stepped upon lush grass, the pale moonlight illuminating the small park before her. The place was quiet in the air of midnight, a soft breeze pushing the nearby swing set with gentle hands and gentler fingers. The place was silent, soulless, a place for quiet thought and reflection. 

...And painting?

With her thoughts interrupted, she looked up. Her eyes not coming upon an empty park, but a simple man and an easel. 

Though he was shaded by the moon, a few features upon his face could be seen. His eyes seemed almost crystal as they looked to her; a cascade of dreadlocks sat upon the top of his head, the sides carefully shaved. 

He smirked as their gaze met, a smug thing dotting the corners of his lips and causing them to curl. 

And she…

Blushed?

She tried to look away, to cover the blush upon her cheeks. But that blush was determined to be seen. 

“I did not think to see another here so late.” the man spoke, his lips still curled in a cocky smirk as she approached closer. 

What was she doing? This was just some random man in a park. At midnight no less. Painting a portrait of the moon. For all she knew, this man could be as nutty as a Nutty Bar. 

And yet. 

She drew even closer. 

“Painting?” she asked, her voice pushing all hints of a blush from her cheeks, “Isn’t it a bit late?”

“Not if you’re painting the moon.” the strange man offered as she drew closer, “And not if you value your privacy either.”

Oh.

She paused, her lips turning to a scowl, “I did not realize this was *your* park. If I am intruding then-”

“Did I say you were?” 

No, she supposed he didn’t. 

Like a siren calling her to the deep, she came to stand beside the strange man peering at the artwork before her.

“Name?” he asked.

“The Moon?”

A chuckle emerged from his lips, a loud and infectious thing. The simple sound warmed the space around her like a flaming hearth.

“Lavellan.” 

“And you?”

“I have many different names. But you may call me The Dread Wolf”

“The Dread Wolf?” Lavellan smirked in return, her lips parting in a delightful laugh, “Is that some sort of...alias or something?”

“Or something.” the man replied stroking his brush upon the painted canvas. 

“If I may ask, you know why I am here simply from my easel. But what brings a woman such as yourself out here so late.”

“Clearing my head.” she replied as she looked upon the painting. 

The man seemed amused by that. A laugh emerging from his lips as his brush stroked, “And is it working?” 

She paused for a moment pondering her answer before parting her lips, “It is now.”

Dear Lord. What was she even saying? This was just some random man in a park! She barely knew his name, much less anything else. And she was… hitting on him?

“Then I am happy to be of assistance.” The Dread Wolf replied, that smug smirk curling upon his lips. 

Without warning, without so much as a word, she grabbed him pressing her lips to his. He tasted like the spice of her tea. Heady, peppered, and consuming. 

He paused. His eyes searching her, looking for some reasoning in her kisses, some premise for the actions of this woman within the middle of the night.

But there was none. 

Did it even truly matter? They were two people passing through, never to see one another come the morning. His fingers smoothed over her shoulder, his arms grasping upon her hips and pulling her closer and closer until their bodies touched. 

“Tell me to stop.”

She growled, a low animalistic thing her hips linking with his under that pale moon light. 

“Don’t stop.” she commanded, her body turning just so their eyes met, “Please.”

“Your wish is my command.”

The Dread Wolf stripped the coat from her shoulders, exposing her skin to him. He kissed her yet again, his lips nipping down to the bare skin with an eager growl. With equally greedy hands she pawed at the clothing upon his skin stripping the shirt from his chest. 

Hard. Plained. Muscled. 

Her hand smooth over his skin, snaking down his body in search of her prey.

“Here?” he asked, his voice a teasing growl.

“Dread Wolf, take me.”

His grasping fingers found the helm of her skirt slipping his hand under the cloth and to her slick wet core. Her back arched, perfectly moaning in response to each tiny ministration of his fingertips. A wandering hand soon slipped under her shirt grasping upon the perfect peak of her nipple beneath his hand.

“Don’t stop.” 

She pulled upon his waist, pushing him to a nearby park bench. Her fingers pawed upon his pants with an eagerness unzipping the cloth and freeing his hard erection with ease exposing it to the world around them.

He grinned as she bent down unashamed in the light of the moon. She took the hardness within her grasp toying with the length. She smirked, a playful thing, teasing in her tone until a moan broke his lips in response. 

Her lips lowered upon the hard flesh, tasting pure salt. Her tongue swirled upon him filling her mouth with nothing but him.

He growled in return, smoothing a hand through her loose hair coaxing her head on further. Her lips lavished upon him peppering every bit of exposed hardened skin with wettened kisses from hilt to tip, never missing even one spot in her enthusiasm. His growls only deepened as she removed her lips from his cock; a bit of heated blush appearing across her cheeks as she licked her lips. 

That small gesture only served to light a flame beneath the man’s eyes. He grabbed her hips pulling her closer to that park bench ripping the soft fabric of her stockings clear off of her legs.

Her eyes widened in surprise as a delicious snarl emerged from his lips. His hands smoothed over her toned legs gasping upon her hips and pulling her to him. He inched the last pieces of fabric away from her folds pressing his lips to her as a supplicant to prayer. 

The smell of her was intoxicating, a full-flavored blend of honey and cinnamon. Hibiscus and mint. She parted her legs for him allowing him a full lap upon her folds; He drank in her wetness lavishing with a marauding force. Her knees weakened, moans escaping her lips as he drank from her tap.

With every fervent lick upon her folds she moaned in response. His tongue was a thing of beauty, crafted from the gods and sent for nothing but the pleasure that laid between her wettened thighs. She twitched, a hiss escaping her as she hitched her crest right upon his sinful lips.

Using a bit of force, she pushed his head back, the last fabric of her skirt soon following. With unabashed bliss she tasted herself upon his lips, her fingers beginning to thread themselves through the chestnut dreadlocks of his hair. 

“Dread Wolf, take me.” she commanded again.

With such a delicious request, how could he not oblige?

Grasping upon her hips he turned her, her hands buckling upon the park bench for stabilization in the storm of him. He smacked her ample backside with a crack, her lips parting in a deep and animalistic growl of appreciation. 

She did not wish to think. Did not wish to process what this was, or what this would ‘mean’ come morning. She simply wished for him, this mysterious man in the moonlight. 

“Fuck me.” She commanded yet again, her hips inching closer to his in raw need. With a slickness he slipped himself into her, a deep growl rumbling from the depths of his throat. Her hips bucked in response riding upon him with a roughness little known in her mundane life before. 

If she could muster words to emerge from her lips, they would be formed in praise; but instead she hazed feeding the needy beast inside of her with each crash of her hips. He spanked her once again the crack of her reddened skin resonating within the silence of the night.

Her back arched, toes curling inside her boots, knuckles white on the bench before her heightening with every thrust of his hips. Her eyes closed with the biting of her lip, parting not in a moan, but in a howl of raw shuttering bliss. Their bodies fell over against the bench before them, climaxes mixing together in sweet symphony of the night. 

Perhaps she would never see this man again, but for one night, in the pale moonlight…

She howled.


End file.
